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 Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2008 4:20 pm
Lost in the Void
The following are stories written multiple formats featuring the residents of the Nullspace. Some are to be read as journal entries authored by these boys. Some stories meant to supplement the histories written in their profiles, events leading up to or reactions to RP storylines. Some are "solos" or personal multi-character roleplay entries; some are merely snippets at best.
Please do not post in here under any circumstances. You are here for the ride, not to navigate it. However, if you have comments my Inbox is always open.
Why, Mel, why?
This move was spurred on by the death of my HD. It seems so long ago because it was. I had several journal entries written by boys (and others in planning) that have been lost. Good thing I know what they are supposed to say. But what kept me from actually posting them (and saving them from HD death) was the fact that I didn't know how I wanted to present them. That'll show me. See how years later nothing much has changed...
Well to hell with all that (literally, yes?). They're going up as they are written and I'll organize them later. I apologize to the reader... but this is for me more than it is for you anyway. And even after all these years, that is what motivates me anymore. That it's written for me...
Table of Contents
Under each entry will be links to various entries as they become available. There still isn't much to see...
- Sian: with the moon and my shadow we drunkards three.
- Why Jimi hates everybody.
- The rebirth of Mel and what it has to do with Shelby.
- There's a reason Val hides from civilization.
- Why nobody mentions (or bothers) Amrit.
- An understanding reached between Sian and Finn.
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Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2009 3:14 pm
Current Events
- Oh look, Aaron finally found Mel, but nothing went according to plan. Definitely a WIP pending story expansions.
- Wrote an entry leading up to the RP between my Ren and Dracier's Rye.
- Currently working on Val and Sian. If Reno found out about any of this he'd probably murder someone. Vlad too for that matter. Well, maybe their writers will see what there is to see and enjoy the read.
- Val and Vincent's first journal entry bit the big one. I've re-written some but kinda moved on. My bad. It will be written eventually. Addendum, the rewritten part is File Not Found. I'm just gonna have to sit down and rewrite it.
- Jimi's story is expanding in ways I hadn't intended. Mindplots should be written already, doncha think?
Please note:
Unless otherwise noted, these are all WORKS IN PROGRESS. They fall in a certain order that may or may not be currently portrayed, IC or otherwise. Thank you.
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Posted: Wed Dec 14, 2011 12:53 am
It's about time this thing gets dusted off. While I figure out what all goes in here, I'm going to put in something that has needed to go somewhere for quite some time. Edited for spelling.
- - -
[19 Aug. 2008 ]
Ignatius had a dream one night...
The restaurant had been booked six months in advance. It was the fanciest one he could find, and he had visited it several times just to be certain that it was as wonderful as he thought it would be. Of course, it was. He had everything planned out. He had the best table, the menu and wine, and even music arranged especially for this particular evening. Everything was perfect. He would never have settled for anything less.
He, Ignatius, Alpha Cat of Fire, was finally going to get somewhere with someone. One would think that being of the element of fire - of passion, of love, of romance, he would have had more luck in this area.
Wrong.
He had been alone and lonely for far too long. He had been laughed at by some Housemates That Would Remain Unnamed, jeered at because he had "had it coming." What a horrible thing to say! Just because some men can't keep more than one lover in line doesn't mean others can't!
It was just that he had had some bad luck. That was all. He just needed to be more discriminating, choose a partner with both his mind and his heart. He could do that!
He had done that! After long last, after countless months of slaving, of pampering, of cajoling, of loving... he was finally certain that this was the one! Tonight was going to be the night! He was going to do something very important tonight.
He just... could not remember what it was he was going to do. It was a very important night, that was all he could remember. And for that matter, he could not remember who it was. Who was "the one?" What was his name? The more he tried to recall his face, the further it slipped away into shadow. And as time went along and preparations for the Perfect Night in Honor Of That Special Someone were made, as the time drew near, he became increasingly agitated. Nobody seemed to notice this, which was a wonderful thing as nobody wants to see an alpha upset. It turns general morale into shivering nervousness.
He just could not recall! Worse, he knew that this someone, whoever it was, was going to stay with him this time. No leaving, no jealousy, no anger, just pure acceptance. A pure smile and pure love and pure everything! His efforts had finally paid off... all for the person he could not remember!
He entered the restaurant and was greeted by the smiling maitre d' before being lead away. The rooms were beautiful, decorated warmly in reds and greens and golds, floored with rich, knotted hardwoods and trimmed in antique metal fixtures. The paintings on the walls were real, the curtains thick, plush velvet. The heavy scent of cooking meats and cheeses, steaming breads and vegetables, permeated the air even as the fruity alcoholic smell of wine floated through like a tantalizing ribbon on the breeze.
The tables they passed, while filled with people, were familiar faces. Even anthros who usually despised him were giving him nods of encouragement and smiles. Their plates were full but untouched, as if waiting for something with bated breath.
Ignatius took a deep breath. His table was next. His heart was pounding. This was it.
There was a curtain in the way. All he could see were the top of the table and the other's arms, clothed in deep-red suit fabric. He sighed in an attempt to calm himself. No worry. No stress.
He sat down and smiled. The person across from him smiled too... but he could only see a glint of candlelight off of shiny white teeth. When the other spoke, the music began to play.
"What? What did you say?"
"I said..."
He frowned. Did he know that voice? Of course he did. But who was it? Who had been missing as he passed the tables? This was so frustrating!
"What is your name?" He had to try.
Laughter. "You know who I am."
"Well of course I do, it's just that..."
"Didn't you have something to do tonight?"
"Oh, yes..." Ignatius frowned and fumbled around. Was he carrying something before? Did he have something memorized? Was he going to propose? Again, he could not remember.
His guest's tail flicked in impatience. It was a long, grey tail. Who had a tail like that? Of course he knew, it's just that...
"It's just that what?"
"I don't know... What's going on?"
Laughter.
Suddenly everyone was laughing. The faces disappeared and Ignatius was left wondering. Who was that?
When he finally woke, he thought he could still hear laughter echoing in his head despite the silence of his room. He yowled softly. How frustrating!
And after all that, he was still alone.
- - -
The response that follows, I have yet to write. It involves a new housemate, déjà vu, and the question as to whether a certain squirrel actually has dream-related abilities.
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 12:45 pm
Valentino's story arc
Entries greyed-out are to-be-written (or simply posted)
- A Beast's first encounter with Sian
- Two Vincents meet
- Val and Reno meet after a very long time
- A Beast seems to like blood
- Sian sees a big change in Val and pursues
- Val is summoned by Mel - Val owns up
- An Alpha is summoned - Iggy's clean-up
- Val is ostracized by self-ostracizing Keith
- Mel suggests kids would get val to stop projecting his fears into reality
- Keith discovers the truth and confronts Sian
- Freed from his master's control, Sian is summoned and ... kids?
- Val defeats and banishes Sian, orphans sons
- Kunlun teaches Val how to banish his guilt
- Val and Reno's kids (forthcoming)
~early- to mid-September 2008
I think I made a friend today, strange as that seems.
My fellow residents had been locked away for an entire year. Like the others, I felt a need to stretch my wings, so to speak. I do not enjoy using my gun, but it is one of my abilities, and my skill had become rather rusty in the time away. I took advantage of some freetime and made a trip out to visit Keith's mountain, as we call it. He has a cabin out there; at the time he was cleaning and airing it out and he showed me to an area that was especially secluded. As far as we could tell, no humans or anthros, and few if any animals had been in the area in some time.
Keith is so hospitable; he does not technically own the land but he does take it upon himself to protect it, after a fashion. So that he was so helpful means much to me.
- - -
~(written in blood, with long spidery strokes) late September
I realize that with this statement I risk falling into cliche.
But...
Blood is in every way beautiful. It is mesmerizing, jewellike. So many beautiful things are the color of blood...
Heh... I sound like a vampire, don't I? (smear)
(later, typical if shaky handwriting)
Oh, God... what is wrong with me?
- - -
~same day, Sian's hand.
Dear Journal.
(How quaint is that? Dear Journal? Excuse me, I'm positively giddy!)
Tonight, he's mine.
- - -
(next day)
The unfamiliar sound of a phone vibrating on the nightstand brought Sian awake. When was the last time he had gotten a phone call? Probably on a morning similar to this one. "Hello?" The phone had not awakened the man beside him as he brought the phone to his ear, it was the rumbling of his chest as he spoke. Feathers brushed across Sian's chest as a winged ear twitched. Gods, that is so adorable. Who wouldn't think wing-ears are cute? Before he could ponder on that and perhaps develop a fetish, the voice of his household's master addressed him.
"Sorry to bother you... but you wouldn't happen to know where Val is, would you?"
"Yes, he's here." The demon could not have kept the smile out of his words and did not really care to. He's more or less draped across me. No, he's not getting up if I have anything to say about it.
A second set of eyes opened, unfocused. Nothing like knowing one is being spoken of without really knowing it. He must have moved, for a moment later a dark, clawed hand began to stroke his choppy hair and pet behind his ears, lulling him back toward slumber.
Meanwhile, across the wires, Mel sighed. "Thank goodness. His arm was just laying there in the middle of nowhere... it's mangled where it should attach to, er, the rest of his arm. You wouldn't believe the mess out here. Keith's damn near hysterical."
"You don't say," Sian yawned. He could believe it; he had seen it, witnessed it, been a part of it...
"So, um... you found him...?" How does one word it? The dragon felt really rather awkward, despite the horrific scene he was surrounded by, addressing such things. Yes, Sian, so did you subdue Val and ******** him to unconsciousness? Oh, you did? We are all so relieved...
Of course, Sian thought Mel's lack of eloquence was cute too. Wasn't he a self-proclaimed, unpublished writer? But apparently he was spoken for, so he told everyone. At the very least as head of the house he was off-limits to everyone anyway. But he knew exactly what the dragon was clumsily trying to ask. Most likely Keith was within earshot and wouldn't want to know anyway. "Yes. I distracted him. He's quite safe." He chuckled, "If anything... I'm the worse for wear."
Val leaned away from the other's hand. He felt boneless, and in fact if he did not move at all, he felt almost senseless in every possible way. But for all that he was hearing a one-sided conversation, he knew what was being discussed. He peered up at Sian almost reproachfully.
The demon grinned. "Oh, now don't look at me like that."
There was something curious about Sian's previous statement that pulled his eyes away from the yellow-eyed demon's self-satisfied smirk. He lifted himself up enough to look at the demon's naturally dark, bruise-colored skin. Here and there were streaks of bright red, the flesh around the gashes swollen and even darker than normal, almost black by comparison. The blood... it was Sian's. The wounds were already healing, but the scabs could easily tear. A widening of the demon's smile told him he would not mind that at all.
Val averted his gaze and looked himself over. As he had suspected, very few scratches, superficial wounds.
Meanwhile, Mel sighed again, this time with impatience. "Okay well, will you tell him I have his arm? He knows where to find it."
"Of course."
After hanging up, Sian tossed the phone aside. If he was lucky the battery would pop out and Mel would be unable to reach them if he decided he needed something else. Mel could have Val to himself later...
The angel had other ideas. He did not want to be here. He also did not want to think about it, at least for now. The demon swiped at open air as the angel moved away and perched on the edge of the bed, trying to wake up. "Who was that? Was it Mel?"
"I'll tell you later." Sian reached for him again.
The angel dodged him and shoved his groping hand aside with a wing. "Leave me alone."
Sighing to himself, the demon propped himself up on his elbows. So it was over already. He had missed the remaining window of time by a stupid phone call. Damn you, Mel... "What are you going to do? There's no reason for you to leave."
"I know what happened. I don't remember everything... but I know what I did." He looked down at his hand and realized that the other was missing. Not once had Sian made him think about that. No, there was something... he had made it seem all right... erotic... He shook his head fiercely to ward off images flashing before his eyes and swatted at a caressing hand. "Don't touch my arm!"
"You seemed to like it last night..." Sian purred the words but leaned away. There had been a response; this was promising.
"Where... is my arm?" the angel croaked softly. He saw clothes littered carelessly around the room, but no glint of metallic prosthetics.
"You left it on-site," Sian shrugged. "I could actually show it to you."
"No... I think I can find it myself."
Sian pursed his lips. He had already risen to gather his clothes. This was the same ol' Val all right. "Can I ask you something?"
Warily, the angel turned back to watch him. "Depends on the question." He picked up a shirt and a sock, adding them to the growing wad of clothes under his arm.
"Why? Why do you have to do everything yourself? It's obvious... no, I think it's obvious to everyone, that you can't handle it yourself."
"I..." For several moments he could not utter the words. It was too early for him to think with such complexity. Finally he returned to a corner of the bed and started to dress. He glanced over his shoulder. "What about you?"
"The differences between you and I are as follows: I can handle it; I'm older than you can fathom; and I don't really care. You have no idea what it's like sitting motionless for eons wanting nothing more than good old fashioned drunken debauchery. Wars are nice too. But seriously... Start enjoying what you're good at. If you're good at killing, why not? It's obvious that it's in your blood, for better or worse," the demon's words were accompanied by a bloodthirsty grin.
Sian had somehow advanced again, slipping his arms around the other's waist. Though Val squirmed he had run out of space on the bed. Setting his jaw, he slipped his shirt on, one specially made for his two pair of wings. Vaguely, he was grateful that it had not been ruined. "I think the only difference between you and I is that I care. It makes all the difference. I want to change. I just don't know how. Every time I think I have everything under control..."
"Poof! Isn't life strange?" The demon chuckled. "I don't know what you can do. More experiments? Drugs? I can do to you every night what I did last night..."
"No." If that was the case, those wounds would never heal. Was that the only thing bothering him? Sian's wounds? What is wrong with me?
"Why not? You can't say you didn't like it..."
"I told you no!" Jumping to his feet, Sian was easily shrugged aside; the angel was very upset and the demon was not about to push the issue further.
Damn. Or would he? He could not help himself. "Oh, I get it. You always get assertive when you meet someone. But you knew this guy already, didn't you? What was his name... it was a place name, I love place names..."
"Reno. It's... Reno..." He did not face Sian, instead finishing what he was doing and looking primarily at the floor. "I don't know."
"Oh goody! Is he a monster too? Maybe what you need is a werewolf. You can go on a blood-curdling rampage together, then roll around in the gore until the sun comes up."
"No."
"Oh gods, don't tell me he's normal. You know better than that."
"Not exactly..."
"Not exactly?"
"He's specially trained..."
"Good for him!"
"He's killed..."
"Many?"
"I don't know."
"So basically you don't have a snowball's chance in hell."
"Ah...mn. I don't know. It depends." Val was at the door.
The demon laughed heartily. "Go get your arm. Then I'll see you when you've killed him. Or dumped him. Isn't that how it works?"
The angel did not need to reply. He simply shut the door behind him.
- - -
~ later that night (Sian's hand)
The earth and the moon,
Lovers, dance out of arm's reach
Hidden from the watchful glare of the sun.
Night after night,
Flirtation, desire and denial play
And each month, season, and year passes.
A light kiss, moon meets the horizon
Trees caress pale blue skin
Again moon disappears to the earth's dismay.
Dear Journal. (heh)
I think I am drunk again...
And...
I think, no matter how many millennia pass, my poetry will always be terrible. Oh well...
Maybe I can get Mel to rewrite this. I won't tell him what it's really about. He'll probably figure it out. Maybe I'll just burn this in the morning.
- - -
(same day, afternoon)
"Do you think he's all right?" The angel spoke with a faint British accent. He was disheveled, but he always looked disheveled. Even so, his feathery mottled-blonde hair stood on end; his clothes, heavily creased as if in sleep or out of habit, had been hastily drawn about his body. He could not stand in one place for long. Between his panic and his surroundings there really seemed no place to stand.
"He's fine."
"You spoke with him?"
"No, but I heard him. I spoke with Sian and he seemed all right."
"You trust Sian?"
Mel tossed something aside, a small log that was probably the only object in the clearing not spattered with blood, and looked back at Keith. "No, not really. But if I know Val he'll be here as soon as he can."
"I wouldn't want to come back..." Keith looked around them again, actually holding his arms. He was not normally squeamish, in fact he had seen death and gore before without devastating effects to his psyche. This... this he would never have imagined. He would never look at anything red again without seeing this. He would never hear rain, or any liquid, fall and not think of this. He would never look at wildlife without seeing them dismembered.
On the other hand, the dragon was taking things surprisingly well. He had grown up more or less sheltered; even cheesy horror movies had given nightmares. Just hearing the theme from The X-files had given him nightmares as a child! Now, of course, they were good for a chuckle. But this scene was so real as to become surreal. He hoped whatever shock he was "suffering" would not wear off anytime soon.
The clearing was glazed in a thick, viscous, yet translucent sheen of red. Some surfaces were sprayed in a fine mist while others were coated as if stuccoed with blood and thicker materials. Mel glossed over the pieces of animals littered about, though Keith stared at them. He dare not look overhead. A tree had almost artfully been trimmed as if for Christmas in the entrails of a deer, most likely. How does that happen except through intent?
The angel wondered how something that tall could be missed even in a forest. "Who would do such a thing?" he asked plaintively.
The dragon stared at Keith for a moment, how could he say it...?
A sharp flurry of wingbeats broke the silence that had grown between them and they turned their eyes skyward. Valentino landed between them; he looked even paler than his norm. He took a deep breath, taking in the horrible stench that was growing with each passing moment in the filtered sunlight. Grief-stricken, he turned to Keith, who had been about to cross over to him, and held his gaze. Keith was held fast by his words: "I did this."
"No..."
Denial is strong in this one, Mel thought with Darth Vader severity. How could Keith not believe Valentino? But most people don't believe he is capable of such acts... It was preventing this that had been such a great challenge. No one but Val could be sure what triggered these episodes, and Mel doubted even he knew. If he did, he would find a way to stop this from happening.
"You. Did this." The grey-and-brown angel looked slowly around the clearing again before returning his disbelieving eyes on Val.
"Yes." There was nothing else he could say. Not even an apology sounded even remotely appropriate. At this moment, seeing the betrayal play out across his friend's features, he wished that this was his funerary scene and not that of some hapless creature whose inkling to danger had come an instant too late.
- - -
~ in Ignatius’ hand, later that evening
When I rose above the firestorm, I saw Valentino. They had all been warned to stay away and to wait at Keith’s shack, but he is not the type to heed danger.
From a distance, Valentino’s image can inspire terror. He hovered not quite above the highest tongues of flame. They licked possessively at his boots. The wind created by the sheer size of the forest fire whipped about him but he seemed not to notice, which only added to the dramatic effect. I suppose it’s good that he doesn’t wear that old cloak of his anymore. Something about blood-splattered, bright-red and tattered fabric reflecting such destruction would have made it even worse. Even I would have felt shivers up and down my spine. It is easy to wonder at times like that if anything can touch him.
But I joined him a moment later, letting the currents carry me upward before giving my flight a direction. When I saw the expression on his face, it could only be described as grief.
He said: “Sometimes I feel like I should throw myself into the flames. Maybe it would be better that way.”
How can someone like this have done such things? I wrestle with that question countless times and never come up with an answer. Yet I know that I have done things in the past that I would share with no one. My shame runs deep, just as his does. I had no answer for him then, only a question: “Do you want to die?”
I know that old story, when he slept for decades dreaming retellings of his darkest memories… But he never actually tried to kill himself. Or did he?
“No.”
The weight of that one word and the feelings carried with it made me want to embrace him. That is the kind of person I am. But only more shame would have come of that, I know. So I spoke with the inadequate wisdom of a pack leader - a guardian and a guide to my own people - but also as a friend; I grabbed his shoulder firmly. “Then keep fighting. That’s all you can do.”
That’s all any of us can do.
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 12:47 pm
Mel's a confused wittle draggin
Well now, the story of Mel and Shelb has been on the back burner For Years! It's nice to get it off my shoulders after all this time. xD; Corresponds loosely with Aaron’s commission (Acy) and arrival, and with new meta/Atlantis stuff
[13 Oct 2015]
This is all Aaron’s fault.
"Hate" is the word that comes before my eyes as I do this disgusting thing. I hate this body and the one who made me this way. I hate how it makes me react to one and submit to the other. I hate them both.
But do I really hate them?
I watched Shelby grow from inception to adulthood. I watched his little gifts tear his mind apart, warp his emotions, and shape his body into an instrument of terror. I could relate to some of his experiences but his anger and desolation went far beyond my own. How could I ever tell him, "No?"
The trash can next to my bed is full.
The lip curling in disgust is both my own and someone else’s. That someone is long dead, just as my real body is dead. Who knows how his spirit felt about being lured to his death with the promise of another conquest? How much did Shelby give him before he died?
I hate this body! Why did he choose this one! It is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. It makes me ill to think of what I want to do to those I love. The nausea I should have felt never comes. My inner screaming is heard by none and is felt by my body as a hollow thing. How can such a paradox exist?
Why would you have done this to your own mother? Or rather, the one you wished was your mother...
Perhaps all the fantasies of youth portraying a picture of angelic beauty and deeds are what draw me now to those in angelic guise. But the torment I feel is horrendous. What I feel in my heart and mind and body are all at war. It is something I have never experienced before. But what I can be certain of is that I must push them both away. Maybe I can find someone I despise but that this body craves. Wouldn’t that be lovely?
Aaron leaned close until their foreheads nearly touched, his narrow eyes gazing downward. He felt the mingling of their breath and their heat acutely. This man before him was physically nothing like the one he had searched for, for over ten years. But his personality, his energy, the inflections of speech and some quirks of movement were all familiar. The draconic man before him was indeed the human female he had been summoned to serve.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "Mel, this is just wrong."
And as for the summoner, she had left their lives long ago and their precarious situation had never been resolved. Mel wanted to honor her intentions if possible. But it wasn’t. She, now he, wanted to honor any request of an old friend, anything but this. "No kidding! It’s always been wrong!"
"At least your reasoning has changed," the angel chuckled. If Mel’s resistance had been through physical disgust before, the dragon only held back now out of some warped sense of principle.
"Shaddup." The dragon snarled and shoved him away. It was an angry but half-hearted response, but it still knocked the larger male back several steps. "Why did you have to come back?"
"I had to find you."
Mel snarled, "And I told you that you wouldn't like it. Your single-mindedness makes you seem rather stupid." He glanced back at Aaron; he had and hadn't meant it. "Now what?"
"I can't serve you as intended. I want to, but I can't. That's why it's wrong." Aaron felt lost now. His whole purpose in this life was gone. His voice proclaimed it as he voiced those words. What now?
"Looking to me for guidance? That's some kind of desperate." Mel returned to Aaron, facing him squarely. The dragon placed his hand on the angel's shoulder. "Find your purpose in life. And when you do, come back and tell me all about it."
Aaron had left him with a smile, but they both knew that another ten years might pass before they saw each other again. The departure was bittersweet.
Now, how to get rid of Yoshe?
Then he would be alone again in the crowd, but he could live like that indefinitely.
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 12:51 pm
[13 Oct 2015]Precedes this roleplay by not-very-long, but further develops concepts I've been mulling over for... well, years!Min had often told Ren that between the two of them, they symbolized strength. Min’s body had been honed by physical strength. His body curved with the ebb and flow of an ebony river as he practiced his martial arts. He used his own life force to direct that body in a series of beautiful but deadly movements. As a spectator, it was easy for Ren to understand Min’s side of the coin.
What strength did Ren possess? With skin and scales of a lighter violet color than his brother, he felt like a dilution by comparison. He was slower, stockier, and far less graceful (clumsier?) than his brother, too. Though Min’s scant words were almost exclusively reserved for his brother, Ren maintained almost perfect silence. In his suffering, he remained silent.
Since the accident, Ren had felt alone and afraid. His body contained a storm of sensations completely alien to the young dragon. It contained elements of fire, ice, and electricity, as well as others with no name. He tried to describe them for himself without success. He looked out at the world with the phrase, I am afraid, on his lips. When he saw his visiting brother’s worried face those words withered and died.
I am alone in my pain.
He knew of one other whose experiences were like his. In the bed beside him, another young anthro by the name of Rye lay in a coma. His thin, frail body had been as ravaged for as long as Ren had been in the hospital. Unlike Ren, Rye did not twitch, but he did not look out at the world either. Was his inner storm the same?
Perhaps it was loneliness that had urged Ren to begin to speak. Perhaps he did not want Rye to feel that bitter desolation. So he had talked, talked about everything: the weather, the quality of the hospital food, the way Rye’s father had sounded when he came to visit, the way his own brother trusted in his full recovery. Strangely, Ren had found it easy to find thinks to talk about after he started.
Eventually his uphill battle against atrophy had begun to pay off. Ren’s inner strength had carried him far. That storm that had lashed at him in the beginning had become that strength. It was his desperation and determination. It was his unwillingness to feel like cold rubber and dried-out jerky one second longer.
Overcoming the obstacle of his disability had another, unfortunate, consequence.
He opened his eyes and looked out the window, seeing the blue sky as a beacon of hope. "Rye," he said, stretching stiff muscles and sighing, glad that he would not spend one more night in this uncomfortable hospital bed, "I'm finally going home today." If he could make it out of this place, surely Rye could do it too. "Do me a favor and keep fighting."
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 12:58 pm
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